vacation
by dabbling
Summary: A little trip through Alex's head when she goes on vacation. B/A fluff, but fun!


Vacation

* * *

THE RULES

If you want, you can call me once a day.

NO TALKING ABOUT WORK.

* * *

I waited at the luggage carousel until I saw my slightly dusty suitcase headed my way. I grabbed it, not bothering to check that it was mine. Who else would have this piece of shit suitcase?

I carried it out of the airport, stopping only to call for the hotel shuttle. Then I parked myself on a park bench outside and watched the steady stream of cars, vans, and taxis in their impatient stop and go dance.

Bobby would be home by now, if nothing really nasty had come up…unless he decided to hit a bar or something. He was probably home. He never really went out drinking any more.

My ride arrived, and I hopped in, leaving the driver to wrestle my antique bag into the cargo space in back. Four other people were on the shuttle: a couple, probably on their honeymoon, an older lady in business attire, and a younger one listening to tunes on her ipod.

I pulled out my phone and checked the screen. No calls yet. I wonder if he would call me. The van pulled in at the hotel. I checked in, got settled, and went downstairs in search of a decent dinner.

It was a nice place. For the price, it kind of had to be. I hated to spend money on things like this, but I got vacation so rarely, that I figured I owed it to myself to splurge. I went down to the patio and found outdoor dining, complete with a classical guitarist showing off on a little stage.

I sat down and ordered a bottle of wine. What the hell. I was on vacation, after all.

He'd given me grief about the rules. I told him I didn't think he could manage to follow them. He said there were only two, and he could certainly follow them, no problem at all. Then he hinted that maybe he wouldn't call me while I was gone, and I smarted off to him. I told him that was the only way he'd be able to follow my rules. He took jabs from me like that all the time… all in good humor… but today, he'd seemed… a little stunned for a moment. I feel kind of bad about it, really. I was only cracking a joke.

A joke at his expense, I reminded myself. I did that all too often. I guess it was my way of keeping him at arm's length.

And it's his own fault, really. He's just so damn… needy. It chafes against me sometimes, and I have to push him away. Sometimes it seems like I'm the only thing holding him together.

The cute waiter brought me a plate of enchiladas. I stared at his ass as he walked away. Big tip for this one, I thought, and drank a toast to his total-gym form. I drank down my first glass of wine. What the hell, I'm on vacation.

I don't know. Who am I really fooling, here? I probably push him away because I don't want him to really know ME. I'm pretty good at it, after all. I can count all the loves of my life on one hand.

Sometimes I'm amazed by the way his mind works. He can drift through an interview, and then suddenly shift directions, and go just anywhere: angry, compassionate, star-struck, indifferent… It's like he holds some kind of remote control and after a couple minutes watching can click all the right buttons to get what HE wants out of it.

Except with me. I turned the show off. I told him not to go there.

I started a second enchilada and a second glass of wine and nodded silently to myself. That was the right call. We couldn't work together if he was… under my skin like that, playing puppet master.

The sunlight was starting to fade. I checked the time on my phone. It was 9 p.m. in New York City. Still no calls for me.

I wondered again what he might be doing. My finger touched the number 2, and his number popped up on the screen. I cancelled the command. By God, this was my vacation and I set the rules, and if there were going to be any calls, he was going to have to call ME.

I finished my dinner, and my wine, for that matter. I went for a walk down by the hotel pools. It was a beautiful place. There was a hidden waterfall behind walls full of hanging flowers. There was an adult-only pool, where you could order drinks in the water.

I went upstairs and changed into my swimsuit, then headed back down to try it out. The night was warm, but not hot, and I was afraid I would get too cold once I was wet. The pool was heated, and it all felt perfect.

I explored the pool first, swimming along the edges, trying out the hidden spaces. One nook was occupied, and I hurried away to give the lovebirds some privacy. I waded back to the bar and ordered a drink: HIS drink, this time. I don't know why.

It was too bitter for me, but I forced it down. It was only a few minutes, and I could feel the warmth in my hands and face. I was a little drunk.

I got drunk with Bobby one time. We were at the Policeman's Ball, and I was having such a good time with all the friends I rarely saw… I lost count. Bobby stuck with me all night. I stumbled one time, and he caught me before I fell. I still remember the feel of those strong arms around me. I damn near kissed him, he was so handsome in his dress uniform.

The sun was down now, and the lights of the pool were the only way to navigate through the maze of water. It was surprisingly empty. I found my way to the waterfall and hid. My drunken thoughts were of Bobby: Bobby in Armani suits, Bobby in a leather jacket, Bobby in shorts and a t-shirt. What the hell is wrong with me? He's my partner, and I'm fantasizing about him like he's a movie star or something.

I wound my way around and out of the pool. I wrapped up in a towel and got another bottle of wine to take back to my room. Once in, I checked my phone. There was a missed call on the screen. I looked at the number. It was from him. I quickly dialed voice mail and sat down to listen to his message.

"Uhm…hey, Eames… uh… I… uh… I hope you're having a good time in Phoenix."

That was it. Nothing else, just "I hope you're having a good time." I smiled anyway, knowing he hadn't been able to resist giving me a call. Now was the time for wine and movies. I picked up the remote and flipped the channels.

The show was just getting good when my cell rang. "Hello?" I said. I don't have to bark out my name to answer; I'm on vacation.

"Uhm.. hi."

It was him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but for some reason my body was tingling. I felt like a high schooler again. "Hi," I said.

"Uh, I tried to call you earlier."

"I was in the pool."

"Oh, of course," he said. "How is it there?"

"Nice," I answered, "Real nice. What are you wearing?" I blurted.

"Huh?" He was surprised. "Uhm… it's late… just, you know…Why?"

Uh-oh. Good question, Bobby Goren. Why the hell do I need to know what you're wearing?

"Just curious," I said. "So I can picture you in my head while we talk."

"Are you drunk?"

"N-no… Well, maybe a little. I am on vacation," I announced.

I swear to God he was grinning that shit-eating grin of his. "That's right, Eames, you are on vacation."

There was an awkward silence as I tried to picture him in nothing but his boxers.

"Eames?" he asked.

"Yeah," I slurred.

"What are you wearing?" he asked.

I damn near dropped my drink. Instead I set it down on the table, steadying it so I wouldn't waste the precious alcohol. "Why?" I countered.

He paused, and I thought I heard a chuckle. "I just… wanted to … picture you in my head," he explained.

Tit-for-Tat, I thought.

"Well, uhm… not much," I said. "I got out of my swimsuit and well…"

"Pretty good wine?" he asked.

"Damn good wine."

"Wish I was with you."

"What?"

A long silence followed, and he said it again. "I wish I was with you."

"Why?" I asked, and the tingling in my body revved up a little.

"Eames," he almost whined. "Alex… I love you."

"What?"

"Is the phone working?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said.

"I love you, Alex."

"Goren, you're so full of shit!"

"Alex. I'm serious."

"And you pick NOW to tell me this? When I'm a couple thousand miles away?"

"Well, about that…" he said.

"What?" I demanded.

There was a knock at my door. I raced over, and peeked through the peephole.

"You saw me, didn't you?" he said.

I looked again, but didn't say anything.

"Well, can I come in?" he asked quietly.

I peeked through the peephole again, and was reminded of those pictures of The DOG. The little lens distorted his head, made it too big for his body. He wore a hotel robe and sandals. I couldn't see anything else. I unlocked the door and let him in.

He leaned against it until it shut and made a show of hanging up his phone. Then he reached out for me and pulled me in until our bodies touched. When his lips touched mine, I felt a spark shoot right through my skin. We pawed at each other hungrily.

"Bobby," I managed to say. "What the hell?"

He kissed me hard and then pulled away. "I didn't break the rules, did I?" he grinned.

The End


End file.
